“There is some mistake about this,” said he, slowly, and giving himself time to consider what turn he should lend it.
“This is Mr. Cashel's reply, sir,” said Kennyfeck, after pausing some moments, but in vain for the explanation.
Linton eagerly caught the letter and read it through, and whatever scruples or fear he might have conceived for any other man's, it seemed as if he had little dread of Cashel's penetration, for his assured and easy smile at once showed that he had regained his wonted tranquillity.
“You will then take the necessary steps, without delay, Kennyfeck,” said he. “The elections cannot be very distant, and it is better to be prepared.” As he spoke, he threw the letter back upon the table, but in a moment afterwards, while taking off his gloves, managed to seize it and convey it to his pocket. “You know far better than I do, Kennyfeck,” resumed he, “how sharp the lawyers can be in picking out any flaw respecting title and so forth; for this reason, be careful that this document shall be as regular and binding as need be.”
“It shall be submitted for counsel's opinion this evening, sir—”
“Not to Jones, then; I don't fancy that gentleman, although I know he has some of your confidence; send it to Hammond.”
“As you please, sir.”
“Another point. You'll not insert any clause respecting the tenant in possession; it would only be hampering us with another defence against some legal subtlety or other.”
“Mr. Cashel does not desire this, sir?”
“Of course not—you understand what the whole thing means. Well, I must say good-bye; you 'll have all ready by the time I return to town. My respects to the drawing-room. Adieu.